Hetalia 30 Day Writing Challenge
by Alyssa85
Summary: Just 30 quick one-shots for 30 days. Rating may go up.
1. Day 1: Getting Lost (AusHun)

Warnings: None.

I don't know how to write Austria or Hungary well, but I desperately wanted to write some AusHun, so I don't really care tbh I damn love AusHun (and frankly there isn't enough of it).

I saw the prompt and instantly thought of AusHun and Austria's terrible sense of direction.

* * *

He was lost. Not even just a little bit lost, but completely, and utterly lost. How had he got himself into a forest? Roderich looked around him, looking for anything that might help him make his way through the dense trees.

"I'm not lost," he muttered to himself, continuing his walk forwards. "Just a little off my usual route. Nothing to worry about. I'm perfectly fine." With his head held high, Roderich moved on, watching the trees with little interest.

He couldn't tell how long he'd been walking through the woods, but it felt like hours as he daintily sat himself on a tree stump, making sure his clothes hadn't gotten too dirty in his long trip. Never had he walked so long, and his legs hurt.

"I'm not lost," he said again, twiddling his fingers in his lap. "I can easily find my way home from here." But alas, Roderich continued to sit on the stump, hands in his lap as he tried to figure out his next move. He knew he could call Eliza, but she would make fun of him, she always did when he got himself lost, so he just sat there, doing nothing.

* * *

Roderich could see that it was getting dark out by the way the shadows of the trees moved with the setting sun. "I'm not lost," he repeated for the third time. "I would be able to get home, but I suppose calling Elizabeta won't hurt." He pulled out his phone, visibly wincing as he noticed the mass amount of missed calls and texts from a very angry and very worried wife. He dialled her number back, fingers tapping against his leg as he waited for her to answer.

 _"Roderich, where are you?!"_ She shrieked as soon as she picked up the call. _"You've been gone hours! Why haven't you been picking up your phone?! God, I knew I shouldn't have let you go alone!"_

"I'm in a forest."

 _"You're… in a forest?"_

"Yes. With big trees and far too much dirt."

 _"I sent you to the shop, Roderich. The shop that is just around the corner, how on earth did you end up in a forest?"_

"I'm not too certain myself, Elizabeta."

 _"Honestly, you're hopeless. Describe where you are, I'll come get you."_

"There are trees and dirt."

 _"You know full well that I meant when you walked into the forest."_

"I don't remember."

 _"You're… just… just wait where you are okay? What directions in the forest did you take?"_

"I just walked forwards."

Elizabeta went silent for a moment, before letting out an exaggerated sigh. _"Roderich, did you not think about, I don't know, turning back?"_

"Turning back?"

 _"Yes, when you realised you were in a Goddamn forest, why did you not turn back?"_

Roderich paused. Truly, he hadn't even thought about turning back the way he came, or even just not walking into the forest to begin with. "As if that matters right now, Elizabeta, will you come and get me or not?"

 _"Of course I will just wait where you are. I'll send Ludwig's dogs after you."_

"I'd rather you didn't do that." But she had already hung up the phone.

She was laughing as she pulled on her boots, hysterical laughter in fact. Her eyes teared up and her stomach hurt from laughing. Ludwig nor Feliciano knew exactly why she was laughing, and neither asked.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, boys, help yourself to anything."

"Where are you going, Eliza?"

"My husband has got himself in a bit of dirt, so I need to rescue the pretty princess. Have fun while I'm gone!"

It only took Elizabeta a few minutes to locate the forest he's obviously wondered into. With a roll of her eyes, she began to make her way into the trees. Eliza knew she didn't need to call out, knowing her husband he was only a few minutes' walk into the woods to begin with.

For once Elizabeta hated being right, as only a few minutes of walking, she spotted her husband sitting on a tree stump, legs crossed and hands on his knees. If she didn't find him quite so endearing, she was sure she could kill him.

"Princess, your knight has arrived," she mocked, as she bowed in front of her husband. "I've slain the evil trees and made my way to you!"

"You got here fast," he replied, standing up.

"Roddy, darling, you're barely a mile into these woods."

"I walked for hours."

"Hours to you, maybe." Elizabeta laughed, putting Roderich on the back. "You need to pay more attention, my love."

"Hmph."

"Come on, let me take you home, Ludwig and Feliciano are waiting for us. Where's the bag?"

"Bag?"

"Bag of stuff from the shop. You did make it to the shop at least, right?"

"No."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Man, I knew I should have gone instead." She slipped her hand into Roderich's. "Guess we'll just have to make dessert. No big deal."

"I'll make it."

"Just don't blow it up this time, okay?"

"I wouldn't." Roderich pressed a light kiss to Elizabeta's head. "Thank you for picking me up again."

"Oh, Roddy, I'd travel the world to save you from your lack of direction."


	2. Day 2: Pet names (SpaMano)

Warnings: Implied sex. Gross pet names.

This is full of disgusting pet names, apologies in advance. Also, Romano is kinda ooc but also not? I also want to point out Romano's 'insults' are also pet names, they're just less sweet than Spain's (Spain knows the true meaning behind them, though)

* * *

Spain lay on his stomach, resting his head in his hands as he watched Romano move around the room, collecting clothes and dishes they'd left there the night before.

"You're so beautiful, mi amor."

"Shut your face, Toni," Lovino replied, smiling slightly. "Aren't you going to help me tidy up? We made a mess last night."

"You made a mess, you mean. If I remember correctly, you're the one that dropped the dishes on the floor and pounced on me."

"I did no such thing."

"You basically just ripped my clothes off, threw them down there along with the dishes and ravished me!" Spain rolled over, spreading his body out. "And I was like 'oh no, Roma, we can't! We need to tidy up first!' and you just continued."

Romano whipped him playfully with the shirt in his hand. "That's such bullshit, and you know it!"

"That's exactly how it happened. I can still feel the throb-"

"Shut up!" He threw the shirt at Spain's face. "It's too early for your crudeness!"

Spain just laughed, balling the shirt up and throwing back to Lovino. "It's half three in the afternoon, mi tomate."

"And we went to sleep at five in the morning. It's too early."

"Then stop tidying and come back to bed, Lovinito."

"But it's a shithole in here."

"And you can tidy it later," Spain practically whined, shifting his entire body so he was lying on the pillows. "Come cuddle with me." He pat the bed beside him.

"Fine." It didn't take much for Romano to relent, putting everything he was holding back on the floor and then crawling into the bed beside Spain. "You're the laziest shitface, Toni."

"I just love cuddles with Lovi," he replied, grinning. "You're fun to cuddle."

Lovino grumbled, rubbing his head against Spain's shoulder to get comfortable. "You're warm."

"You're hot."

"Only because you're so fucking warm."

"I meant physically. You're hot, sexy, smokin'."

"Stop, oh my God, just stop." He pressed his face into Spain's shoulder. "You're one to talk."

"What was that? Was that Lovi saying I'm hot? Sexy? Smokin'?"

"No! I said you're hideous."

"We both know you don't feel that way, sweetheart. You love this face."

"You wish."

"I know." Spain kisses his forehead. "If you were a fruit, you'd be a tomato. You know why?"

"Because my face is stupidly red all the time?"

"No, it's because you're my favourite of the fruits!"

"That makes no sense, Spagna."

"Yes it does. The other nations are other fruits, but you're my favourite, so you're the tomato!"

"You're such a dork."

"What fruit would I be?"

"Hmm," Lovino tapped his chin and his eyes flicked downwards. "A banana."

Spain laughed, stroking his fingers through Romano's hair. "Why a banana?"

Romano said nothing, instead started pressing light, open mouthed kisses against Spain's shoulder. "Enough of this fruit talk, I didn't get what I wanted last night."

"Is that so, mi rey?"

"It is, il mio ri."


	3. Day 3: Patching each other up (Multi)

I realised writing this that it's really hard to find an answer as to what kids would have drank in the 1700s in Spain. I could find answers for England and America, but not Spain. In America they would drink really watered-down alcohol or milk, and only the poorest people actually drank water so that's why Chibimano drinks wine in this.

* * *

Romano always hated it when Spain went away. The house was darker, and the mood sadder. Belgium was there, but she didn't have the same powers Spain did. She was lovely, yes, and she smiled just as much as Spain, but for Romano, it wasn't the same thing. She tucked him in nice and tight, would kiss his blushing forehead, read him stories, and feed him whenever, but she still wasn't Spain.

"He'll be home soon, Romano, so get some sleep, and when you wake up in the morning Spain will be home, waiting for you too." Her smile was beautiful, no way Romano could deny that, but it made him miss Spain even more.

"How do you know he'll be back?"

"He sent me a letter a few months ago. He'll be on a boat right now, and hopefully, he'll be getting home in the early hours."

Romano sat up, all previous tiredness hidden from Belgium's view. "Can't I just stay up? I'm not even tired!"

Belgium laughed, patting Romano's head. "Romano, you need lots of sleep to grow up nice and strong. You want that don't you?"

"But, Belgium, I'm not tired at all! I'll never be able to sleep."

"I'll be in so much trouble if Spain comes home and you're not tucked up in bed."

"I'll protect you! I'll make sure he knows it was all me, that you tried to put me to bed but I refused."

Belgium giggled. She knew Romano was tired, she could see it in the way his blinks were slower than usual, and by the fact he was yawning every five seconds. Belgium was no fool, she knew exactly why Romano wanted to stay up, Spain coming home meant injuries, and injuries meant Romano needed to tend to them, just so he knows they're tended to properly. That is why Belgium taught him to tend wounds in the first place.

She sighed but smiled happily nonetheless. "Okay, okay, you can stay up, but promise me when you get tired you'll go to bed, no arguments okay?"

"Okay, I promise." Romano put his arms in the air. "Carry me, pretty lady?"

"You're so spoiled," she replied, ruffling his hair. "Anything for you though, Romano." She scooped him up, settled him on her hip, then carried him from the room and to the drawing room, where she knew he'd fall asleep relatively quickly. She set him down on the small love seat, handed him his drawing pad and the pencil received from France, and let him draw.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you, Belgium."

"Something to snack on?"

Romano looked up at her, and smile present on his face. "Are there any tomatoes left from Spain's last batch?"

"There's a couple. Would you like one?"

"Yes please!"

"Okay, you stay here then, I'll be back in a moment."

Romano nodded, going back to his drawing. He was very proud of his current picture. He felt it was the first one where you could tell exactly what everything was without having to squint. _A family portrait_ , he'd named it. A lovely picture of him and his family. Netherlands stood in the back, his everyday frown present, Belgium stood beside him, grinning the happiest grin Romano could draw, beside her was Spain, also smiling. Then there was him, standing in front of Belgium, her hands on his shoulders. He was also smiling.

"You're very good, Romano," Belgium complimented, looking down at the picture. "That's us, ja?"

"Sì."

"It's very good, are you going to give that to Spain as a welcome home present?"

"It's not quite finished yet. If I finish it tonight, I'll just leave it for him to find."

"That's a great idea, I think he'll love it. You got Ned perfect by the way." She elbowed him playfully, and he giggled, leaning into her. "Put that away while you eat, you don't want to spill tomato on it."

Romano closed the pad, and set it down on the floor beneath his feet. "Thank you!" He exclaimed as he took the tomato from her.

She ruffled his hair fondly. "What are you going to do when Mr Spain comes home?"

"Yell at him," he replied before taking another bite of his tomato. "What will you do?"

"I'll cook him a nice hot meal for when he's washed and dressed. He will need a good homecooked meal after all that fighting."

"You're too good for the likes of him, Belgium. You should let me cook, you don't have to slave around after him."

Belgium giggled. "You're too cute, Romano. You'll have a very important job when he gets home, won't you?"

"Yes, the cooking!"

"I'll be tending to his wounds this time then?"

Romano's eyes widened and he looked at her incredulously. "Don't be silly! You'll get dirty, that's no job for a pretty lady, I'll patch him up!"

"Okay, okay, you patch him up then. Would you like to take a nap before he gets back?"

"Will you wake me up?"

"Of course."

"Do you promise?"

"Hand on heart. As soon as the door opens, I'll wake you."

"Then I'll take a nap." Romano shifted so he was lying on the sofa, head on Belgium's lap. "Wake me?"

She ran her fingers through Romano's hair. "I promise. Get some sleep."

"Buona notte."

"Goedenacht."

* * *

Hours later Romano was woken by a light tapping on his shoulder. "Romano, he's home." He sat up immediately, jumped up and made a break for the door. Leaning against the wall was a very beat up, very tired looking Spain, who despite this, was still smiling that sunshine smile that made Romano feel at home. Romano felt his mouth twitch, but he couldn't tell whether he was happy or sad.

"You came to greet me." Spain's voice was hoarse, and Romano felt his throat tighten. "I love it when you come to greet me."

Romano didn't say anything, he just stared at the bruised and bleeding man in front of him, tears welling in his eyes. Spain chuckled, sitting down on the floor, and spreading his arms.

"Come on, Roma, give Boss a hug."

That was enough to make Romano break. "You stupid idiot!" Romano cried, running to Spain, tears flowing freely. He jumped into Spain's open arms, sighing in happy relief as Spain's arms encircled him in a tight hug.

"Boss is home, Roma."

"Welcome home," he mumbled, voice muffled by Spain's shoulder. "I-I'm glad you're home."

"I'm glad to be back. Should we go find Belgium?"

Romano nodded, grabbing Spain's hand as soon as he was let out of the hug. Spain didn't say anything, he just stood up and led Romano from the entryway. Belgium was waiting in the drawing room for them.

"Welcome back, Spain," she greeted, kissing his cheek. "How was the journey back?"

"Long. Seas were bad the last few days." He glanced down at the boy clinging to his arm. "We can talk about think later though, I need to clean up."

Belgium nodded. "I'll make you some food, you must be hungry. Romano, you help Spain with his wounds, yeah?"

"I will!"

Spain squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Belgium, I appreciate it. Don't do anything big though, you must be exhausted. Just leave it on the side when it's done, then get to bed."

"Oh no, that's okay, I had a little nap with Romano while waiting for you, I can stay up."

He grinned. "Okay, okay. We can all eat together then, but afterwards I insist you both go to bed. Sleep is good for the heart."

"So is welcoming you home though, Spain," Belgium said with a light blush.

Spain reached out his free hand, grabbing Belgium's hand, he brought it to his lips. "You two welcoming me home is good for my heart too."

Romano looked between the two adults who had just been staring into each other's eyes without saying anything for at least three minutes. _The fuck_ , he thought, _is Spain trying to steal Belgium right from under my nose?_

Romano interrupted the moment, tugging on Spain's hand. "Jerk bastard, we need you change your bandages," he groaned.

Belgium shook her head, seemingly coming out of whatever daze she was in. "Food! I'll make food, yes, I'll make it."

"Right, and I'll get cleaned up." Spain rubbed the back of his head. "We'll be back soon, Bel."

"Take your time."

He nodded before pulling Romano away towards the stairs.

"What the hell was that?!" Romano demanded once they were in the bathroom. "Were you flirting with her?"

"Huh? Fl-flirting with Belgium? Don't be silly, Romano."

"Hmph. I better not see you flirting with her again, old man."

"I wasn't flirting with her, Roma." He slid his jacket off his shoulder, hanging it on the back of the door. "She's just a friend."

Romano glared at him. "And she better stay that way. You know Belgium and I are going to be together."

"Roma, you can barely look her in the eyes," Spain teased, ruffling the young boy's hair.

"Sh-shut up!"

Spain chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped the blood-stained shirt in the washing basket and sat down on a stool in front of Romano.

"Where are your worst injuries?" Romano asked, surveying Spain's cut up back.

"These are them this time."

Romano sighed. "They're not as bad this time."

"Nope. I was more careful!"

"I-I'm glad."

Spain turned his head to grin at the child. "Thank you, Romano."

Romano felt his cheeks burn. "T-turn around." He took bandages from the cupboard and filled a bowl with some water that Belgium had collected earlier that day. He dipped the cloth into the water. "Remember, this might hurt and it's kind of cold."

"Thank you for reminding me, Romano."

Romano didn't say anything as he lightly wiped the cloth over the expanse of Spain's back. He himself wanted to wince at the sound of the pained noises his boss was making. Still, he continued to clean up Spain's back, constantly having to dip the cloth back in the water, and even having to change the water after just a few wipes. When he was sure the cuts were clean and had a low chance of infection, he set the water and cloth aside.

"Any more cuts that need cleaning before I bandage you up?"

"Nope! The ones on my legs I managed to clean up properly on the boat."

"Won't they need changing by now?"

"Nah, they're fine. They weren't bad to begin with, in fact, they're probably healed by now."

"If you're sure."

Spain smiled. "I'm sure. Now bandage me up so we can go and eat some lovely food."

"Will you…" Romano trailed off.

"Will I what?"

"W-will you put me to bed?" He asked, winding his arms around Spain to bring the bandages around his torso.

"Of course I will. Would you like to stay with Boss tonight?"

Romano smiled behind his back, happy that Spain read between the lines. "S-Sì."

"We'll sleep in my room then, yeah?"

"S- Sì." He finished bandaging Spain up. "I'll go get you some pyjamas."

"Don't worry about that, I'll get them, you go wait with Belgium."

"Hm, okay." They were silent for a moment, neither moving, until Romano wrapped his arms loosely around Spain's neck in a hug, resting his face against the back of Spain's hair, breathing in the familiar scent. "I'm glad you're home, Spain."

Spain put his hands over Romano's. "I'm glad to be home." Romano pulled away and made a break out of the room before Spain could turn around and see the deep red his face had turned. Spain just smiled at the open door, finally calm after one major storm.

After Spain had dressed, he joined Romano and Belgium in the dining room. "Smells good, Bel."

"Thank you. Sit down, I'll dish it out. Would you like some wine?"

"Yes please, can you possibly water it down like you would for Roma though?"

"Of course. Would you like some, Romano?"

"Yes please, Belgium."

"Two watered-down wines coming up."

"Help yourself to some wine too, Belgium."

"Oh, thank you, but I'm okay."

Once all the food was dished out, and they were all sat around the table, the three of them said their prayers before tucking into their food. Spain groaned as the warm food settled in his stomach. It had been so long since he'd eaten a good, home-cooked meal.

"Thank you so much for that, Belgium, it was fantastic."

Belgium grinned, collecting the empty plates. "Thank you, Spain. I'm glad you enjoyed it. You should get off to bed, and take Romano with you, he's asleep at the table." Spain turned to look at the little boy, who was, in fact, asleep, head on the table. "He wanted to wait up for you."

Spain stroked Romano's hair. "Poor thing." He looked up at Belgium. "You go to bed too."

"I'll just clean the dishes, then I'll head up."

"No, no, the dishes can wait, go and get some well-deserved sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, you look tired."

"Okay, I'll head off to bed then." She set the plates back down on the table, then made her way to stand in front of Spain. "How long are you home for?"

"I don't know. A while I'm hoping."

"Me too." She placed her hand on Spain's cheek. "Me too." Her fingers found their way to Spain's hair, stroking the tangled hair lightly. "Your hair's grown."

"Yeah."

Belgium moved closer, fingers moving to the back of Spain's head. "I think you've gotten taller too."

"I have? Maybe you're just getting shorter," he joked, moving closer to her himself, their faces mere inches apart.

"Maybe," she whispered. Their noses were touching, they could feel the other's breath on their face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I was hoping you would." Spain pressed their lips together, it was a short but sweet kiss, both pulling away with a smile planted on their faces.

"I love… being home."

She giggled, carting her fingers through his hair once more. "I love you too, Spain."

Romano groaning behind them pulled them out of their moment. "I should get him to bed."

"Yeah. Goede nacht."

"Buenas noches." Spain scooped Romano up into his arms, causing the young boy to groan.

"Spain?"

"It's all right, Roma, it's time for bed, it's getting light out. Say goodnight to Belgium."

"Buona notte, Belgium."

"Goede nacht, Romano, dear."

Spain and Romano settled into Spain's bed, blankets wrapped tightly around them, Spain's arm over Romano, cuddling him close. Romano didn't object, he was just happy Spain was back and able to cuddle him without any pain. The mumbled their goodnights, both beyond exhausted by the time they put their head to the pillows, then fell into an easy sleep.

* * *

 _Many, many years later_

"Fucking hell! Spain I'm going to fucking fall!"

Spain rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach as he laughed. "Why did you get up there?" He could barely speak through his laughter.

"You got your fucking shoe stuck up here, you damn moron!"

"Aw, was Lovi looking out for me?"

"I wasn't about to walk home with you only wearing one shoe!"

"I would have taken the other one off, that way it's even!"

Lovino ignored him. "Can you just get me down? It's way too fucking high up here."

Spain finally stood up, his stomach hurting. "Can't you just climb down the way you got up there?"

"Easier said than done!"

"Want me to climb up there too?"

"Then we'll both be stuck, idiot!"

"I don't know what you want me to do, Lovinito."

"Figure something out, _please_ , Spagna, I'm going to fall!" Lovino was frantic, he could feel the branch about to give way from underneath him. "I swear to God, Spain, the branch is going to fucking snap!"

"Stay calm, Lovi." Spain had on his serious face now, noticing how scared his boyfriend was. "Drop down, I'll catch you."

"Will you?"

"Yes." He held his arms out, ready to catch the Italian. "You know I won't let you get hurt."

Romano shook as he readied himself to drop from the high branch. "If you don't catch me I'll break all your bones, I mean it."

"I don't doubt that."

"Okay. On the count of three."

"One."

"Two."

Lovino squeezed his eyes shut. "Three." He let go of the branch, falling through the air at a rapid speed. "Oh, fuck!" He screamed as both he and Antonio hit the floor. Spain had caught him, Lovino could feel that, but the impact of Romano into his arms knocked him backwards. Spain hit the floor, cushioning most of Lovino's fall.

"Well that was fun," Spain said, cheerily holding Romano close. "Are you okay, Lovi?"

Romano sighed, shifting to let the older man move. "I cut my knee on the trunk, but other than that I'm fine. What about you?"

"I think you broke my back."

"Oh shit, do you need the hospital?"

Spain laughed, sitting up. "Nope, all good!"

"Thank God." Lovino slapped Spain's arm. "You're a fucking idiot, Spagna."

"I'm sorry. I won't throw any more shoes into trees."

"You better not. I'm not climbing another death trap, I'll just leave you behind next time."

"I need to put a plaster on that, let's go find some water to clean it."

"I can put my own plaster on, I'm not a child anymore."

"I know you can." Spain stood up, holding out his hand for Romano to take. "Up you get."

Lovino let himself be pulled to his feet, and once Spain had slipped his shoe back on, they made their way out of the field. As soon as they get back home, Spain orders Romano to sit on a chair whilst he cleans and plasters the small cut on Romano's knee.

"You need to be more careful, mi tomate," Spain said, as he dragged the small cloth over his knee. "You know you take longer to heal up than you used to."

"I need to be careful? Spain, you took most of the fall! I'm surprised you're not in more pain."

"You're very light." Spain set the cloth aside, pulling out a tomato printed plaster. "Though my back does actually hurt. I might need a nice massage from you." He opened the packaging, and stuck the plaster over the cut, pressing a light kiss on top. "Would you be willing to do that?"

Romano's cheeks heated up. "Get into the bedroom then, I'll find the oils."

"Yay!"

* * *

This one got a lot longer than I intended it too, I just love Spain and Chibimano's relationship. I also adore SpaBel and decided to incorporate that into this fic too, hope ya don't mind.


	4. Day 4: Hugging (HongIce)

Warnings: This is shit. Absolute horseshit. I love HongIce so much but I just can't write them without hating it.

Lol, this is so out of character, but it's late, I rushed this and I just needed it to be up. This wasn't even supposed to be today's fic, but the one that IS supposed to come out today isn't finished and I really don't want to rush that one.

* * *

Emil had always hated people touching him. He would shy away from wandering hands and open arms, even those coming from his family. So why, he wondered, did he want his best friend to touch him? Why did he want to be wrapped up in his arms, feel his breath on his neck?

Emil shook his head, sighing.

"Yo, Emil," Leon greeted, holding out his hand for a fist bump. Leon was no stranger to Emil's need to not be touched, so he never forced the teen, opting to always let Emil have the complete choice. Emil touched their knuckles together, the feeling of his want for Leon's fingers on his skin rushing over him again.

"Hi."

"Wassup?"

"Nothing."

"You look down, Emil, you can't, like, hide things from me."

"I'm not down."

"Do you, like, want a hug?"

Leon was joking, Emil knew that, but that didn't stop him from looking down at the floor and whispering an almost silent, "yes."

"What, really?" His eyes were wide as he stared at Emil. "You, like, actually want a hug from me?"

"Yes," he repeated, looking up at Leon. "I would like you to hug me."

"Are you sure? You've always been so… against it?"

"I just… I want to know how it feels, okay?"

"Okay." Leon faulted for just a moment, before he wrapped the shorter boy up in his arms. Emil wound his own arms around Leon, leaning his head against his shoulder. He could feel his heart racing, and hoped to God Leon couldn't feel it too.

"I-I like you, Leon."

Leon chuckled, rubbing circles on Emil's back. "What's gotten into you?"

"For some time now, when I look at you, I just want you to hold me," Emil admitted, feeling stupid at his confession.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"You're my best friend, I didn't want you to hate me."

"Do you have any idea how much I've _wanted_ to hold you?"

"Really?"

"Yes, it's been, like, forever."

"Oh."

Emil shifted in Leon's arms, sighing happily. He still hated being touched, but for Leon, he could deal with it. Hugging him felt nice, and Emil never wanted to give it up.


	5. Day 5: Death of Someone Close (Fraine)

Francis couldn't cry. He didn't know why, but no tears would fall. He sat in the church, hand clasped in his boyfriend's, who was wiping away tears, but Francis couldn't cry.

Antonio squeezed his hand, silent comfort. Francis couldn't help but think about how much Gilbert would have both hated and loved the service. Hated it because of the silence and the sadness, but loved it for all the people that had shown up. He would have loved the attention, Gilbert had always loved attention.

"Are you okay?" Antonio whispered, leaning his head against Francis' shoulder.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"I know, Toni."

* * *

By the time the wake had finished, Francis was quite done with people. He was sick of having his hand shook, and condolences given. He was especially sick of being surrounded by people crying while he couldn't.

"Franny, are you coming to bed?" Antonio asked, popping his head around the front room door. He'd finally stopped crying, and Francis couldn't help but think how thankful he was about it.

"I'll be there in a minute."

"Can I do something for you?"

"I'm fine, Toni, just go back to bed, I'll be there soon."

"Okay, I'll keep your space warm."

Francis nodded in Antonio's general direction. "Thanks."

* * *

It had been a week since the funeral and a month since Gilbert's death, and Francis had still not cried. Truth be told, he'd tried. He tried to force his tears out, but his eyes were dry.

Things were slowly going back to normal, Antonio was back at work, people stopped crying about him and instead shared funny, happy stories about the man. Francis finally stopped feeling heartless. Everyone else was laughing, so he could too.

"Nice day at work, dear?" Francis questioned as Antonio toed his shoes off in the doorway.

"Yes! The kids all missed me a lot. They asked questions about Gilbert too."

"Oh? Like what?"

"About his life, I guess. They remember him always coming with you to pick me up, they were just curious."

"It must have been nice to talk about him with someone who didn't know him."

"It was. The kids think they'd have liked him if they knew him."

"It was hard not to like him, wasn't it? He was always so in your face you eventually change your mind about him."

"Yeah. I remember you hated him when we first met. You thought he was a narcissistic loser."

"I still think that," Francis joked, patting his knee for his boyfriend to sit. "That was one of the biggest things I loved about him though."

Antonio settled himself on Francis, wrapping his arms around Francis' neck to balance himself. "Do you miss him?"

"Every day, Toni. That man was something special."

"Have you… Have you been in his room since?"

"I can't bring myself to. Ludwig asked me to go through his stuff, but it just feels… wrong?"

Antonio sighed. "You can cry, you know."

"I want to," Francis admitted.

"We'll go through his stuff on Saturday, okay? We'll call Ludwig over, and he can help."

"No. I want us to do it alone."

"He's Gilbert's brother, Fran, don't you think he deserves to go through it too?"

"He has Gil's room at their parent's house. His bedroom here is all we have left of him."

"Okay, just me and you then."

* * *

Saturday rolled around quickly, much to Francis' annoyance.

"Ready?" Antonio asked, hand on the doorknob.

"As I'll ever be."

Antonio pushed the door open, almost gagging at the smell from the room. The smell of dust was prominent, making both their noses tingle.

"It's exactly as he left it."

"I'd be worried if it wasn't," Francis replied, covering his mouth and nose with his arm. "We need to open a window in here."

Antonio agreed. After the window was opened and fresh air made its way into the stuffy room, the two could breathe again.

"So, what's the plan?" Francis asked.

"Well, we'll take out the things we want to keep, box up the stuff for his family, then throw away the junk."

Francis glanced around the room. "What do you classify as junk?"

"I don't know, anything that doesn't look like it meant much to him."

"Okay then. Guess we should get started."

"Yeah."

Francis sighed, sitting down on the now stripped bed. The room was clear, save for the boxes littered around.

"He's really gone, isn't he?"

"That's what happens when you die, Fran."

"I know but seeing his room so empty… it really sets in." He rubbed at his eyes. "I'm crying…"

Antonio smiled sadly. "Oh, Francis." He sat down beside his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him. "It's okay, let it out." That was all it took for Francis to finally break down. His sobs came out loudly, his tears thick on Antonio's shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Francis. He may be gone, but Gil will always live on inside us. He's our best friend after all. He'll never be truly gone."

They stayed like that for hours, Francis crying into Antonio's shoulder until he could cry no more, while Antonio just sat there, rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort.

"I want to keep some of his stuff in here," Francis finally said, sitting up to face Antonio. "I want the little things that make this Gilbert's room to stay here."

"That's fine. We won't need to rent this room out anytime soon."

"Okay, good." Francis pressed a kiss to Antonio's cheek. "Thank you, mon amour."

"What for?"

"Being so patient with me. I know I haven't been easy to handle recently. His death just hit me really hard."

"I know, Francis, you don't need to apologise. Everyone handles death differently, I'm not mad or sad that you haven't cried, or that you've been irritable."

"It will be alright, won't it?"

"Of course it will. Gilbert would want us to move on and live a long, happy life. We both know that."

"Oui, he would."

"Then let's do that. Let's move on, be happy and live our lives for our best friend."

Francis picked up a photo of the three of them from Gilbert's bedside table. "Rest in peace, mon ami."

"Rest in peace, Gilbert."


	6. Day 6: Birthday Sex (DenNor)

Warning: Sex. blood play, biting (Sort of, I guess)

This wasn't even one of the prompts, but I didn't like one, and I really fancied writing some smut, so I swapped them out. Enjoy!

Also, apparently I'm really good at writing gay porn, and I totally didn't have to force myself to write this like I have with my other fics in this 30 day challenge (if you haven't read my 30 day NSFW challenge, you should, it's enjoyable even if I say so myself!) It's posted to my Archive; Alyssa_85

* * *

Norway had Denmark exactly where he wanted him. Hot, flushed, and naked on his bed. Lukas bit his lip, hovering above the Dane.

"So, Denmark, are you ready?"

Denmark nodded, eyes half shut. "For you, I'm always ready." Norway shifted, guiding Denmark's erect cock into him, groaning out as he felt himself be filled. "Oh, fuck, Norge, why are you so tight?"

Norway lent down, mouth to Denmark's ear. "I didn't prepare myself properly," he whispered, before nibbling on the lobe.

"You're gonna hurt yourself one of these days, Norge." Mathias sighed, hands grabbing at Lukas' hips to help him bounce.

"I like the pain," he admitted, slamming himself down hard. Mathias groaned, fingers digging into skin. "I want it harder, Dan."

"Your wish is my command." Denmark flipped them with ease, cock still buried deep in the smaller Norwegian. "Is this position to your liking?" He asked, pulling out and slamming back in. Norway cried out, nails drawing lines down Mathias' back.

"Fuck, yes," he whined, legs wrapping around Denmark's back. "Fuck me so hard I can't walk tomorrow! I want your cock so deep inside me that I can feel it for days." Lukas was panting with each cry.

"You're so sexy, Norgie." Mathias dropped his head to Lukas' shoulder. "Dirty talk some more, it encourages me."

"I-ugh- bite me!"

"Bite you?"

"Yes. Bite me."

"Okay?" Mathias sank his teeth into Lukas' shoulder, making his cry out and tighten around Mathias' cock. "Oh shit, you fucking loved that."

"Harder!"

With both his cock and his teeth, Mathias went harder, and God, Lukas' noises, and the way he was tightening up weren't the sexiest thing Mathias had ever felt and heard. They'd had sex many times since their Viking days, but fuck, nothing compared to their sex on their birthdays. Lukas always got louder, more honest with what he wanted, which obviously turned Mathias on more than anything else could.

"I-I'm close!" Lukas cried. Mathias bit down hard on Lukas' shoulder, drawing blood. Lukas cried, tears falling from his eyes with both pain and pleasure. Mathias lapped at the blood from the wound, then proceeded to kiss Lukas. Lukas groaned as the taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He licked at Mathias' mouth, trying to get both the taste of the man and himself from the other.

"You can cum, Lukas." Mathias wrapped his hand around Lukas' dick, stroking slowing in contrast to his fast thrusts. "Or can't you cum without my teeth?" Mathias sank his teeth back into Lukas' shoulder, and Lukas practically screamed as he came into Mathias' hand. He shook as Mathias continued thrusting, basically just using the man as his fucktoy.

Lukas' body felt like a thousand needles were stabbing him as Mathias fucked him relentlessly, still going at the same speed and force as before he'd came. Lukas panted, grip on the Dane tightening and his cock re-hardening.

"I-I'm close," Denmark groaned, licking at Lukas' shoulder. "Talk dirty to me."

"Oh, fuck, Mathias, I want you to cum inside me. Paint my insides white, fill me with your hot, thick essence. Fill me up, Mat, fuck me good."

Mathias came with a groan, as did Lukas covering them both in his cum. Mathias pulled out, flopping down beside his boyfriend.

"Happy birthday, Lukie."

"Thank you, Mat."

That night, after they'd cleaned up, the two fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.


	7. Day 7: Washing Something (SwissAus)

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Murder, Referenced Hiding a body, cleaning up blood, ooc

Have a crack fic written in twenty minutes because I'm lazy and couldn't be bothered to write again and now I've been up over 24 hours and I'm tired, so I don't have the time nor patience to write anything longer. I also have no idea how to characterise Switzerland.

* * *

Roderich wanted to ignore the loud banging on his door. It was three in the morning, and whoever was there had been banging for an hour. Lazy as he was, even Roderich was almost at his limit. He was tired, cranky, and needed his sleep, but the person at the door just didn't seem to care.

With a snobbish groan, Roderich finally relented, getting out of bed. He slipped his slippers and robe on before making his way to the front door.

"Who is it at this hour?" He demanded from behind the door.

"It's Vash, let me in."

"You never come to my house, what is it you want?"

"Just let me in," he hissed, slamming his fist on the door.

Roderich only had the door open a crack before his old friend pushed in. "You're luck-" Roderich trailed off as he too in the appearance of Vash. "That's tomato juice, right?"

"Yes."

"Thank the Heavens."

"It's not fucking tomato juice, Roderich. I need your help."

"With what?"

"A body."

Roderich's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean to, I swear it. I'm usually careful."

"Vash, I don't understand what you're saying."

"I killed someone!"

Roderich scoffed, setting himself on the sofa. "Why are you really here, Vash?"

"I need your help."

"Let me get this straight, you come to my house at three in the morning, and expect me to believe you killed someone?"

"Yes. That's exactly it. I need help discarding the body and washing the floor of blood."

"Do I look like the sort of person who would be useful in this situation?"

"I would have asked Lili, but she was asleep."

"I was asleep."

"Yes, but I don't care as much. Will you help me or not?"

"Why should I?"

"Think about all the times I helped you as a kid."

"This and that are a little different, don't you think?"

Vash groaned. "Please, Roderich, I'll never ask anything of you again. You'll never even have to see me again." He sighed, running his blood covered fingers through his hair. "Truth is, you're the first person I thought of when it happened. Not Lili, you. I've never asked anything from you, so please, just help me with this."

"Fine. I'll help you, on one condition though."

"What's that?"

"You take me for dinner tomorrow."

"What, why?"

"Free meals are one of the best things in life, only second to the piano. Dinner tomorrow or no deal."

"Fine, fine. I'll take you for a damn meal."

Roderich nodded. "Very well, let me just get some clothes on, then we can head out."

"Hurry, I don't want anyone finding the body."

"Please explain what happened," Roderich demanded as he scrubbed at the blood on the floor, his hands already hurting from physical labour. Bodies were heavy, Roderich now knew something he really didn't ever need to know.

"I was target practising, they came out of nowhere, I missed the target and hit them. I didn't mean to."

"So why didn't you just go to the police?"

"I'd be arrested, Roderich. I have a little sister to provide for, I can't really do that from behind bars," he replied, kneeling down with his own cloth to help. "It really was an accident. You believe me, right?"

"I believe you," he said, not missing a beat. "No one who just committed actual murder is this freaked out about it. As long as no one finds the body, no one has to know about this."

"You promise you won't tell?"

"I promise, Vash."

"Thank you."

* * *

The next evening, the two sat in a small, cheap restaurant where they ate a nice meal, and tried to forget about the night before. Their hands clasped together, feet tangled under the table as they reminisce fucking after their crime. You know what they say, those who hide a body together, stay together.

* * *

 **A/N: Also, please, if you want to request me to write something, feel free, but please, do it politely. A please and thank you doesn't go amiss when you're asking something of someone.**


	8. Day 8: Hospital Visits (DenNor)

I don't really know anything about comas or waking up from them, and it's very hard to find actual answers on them, but what I did learn is that people who have been in comas usually need to be taught pretty much everything again, so that's the route I took this in. Though, it's surprisingly hard to write that.

* * *

Mathias had just dropped his keys in the bowl by the door when he got the call from his brother-in-law that his husband had finally woken up. Without a second thought or a single word to the boy on the phone, he was back out the door and making his way back to the hospital. Thankfully for Mathias, the hospital wasn't too far, so he managed to make it back in under half an hour.

Emil was waiting for him in the reception area, a cup of hot coffee for the older man.

"You got back here quick," Emil greeted, handing Mathias the polystyrene cup. "Tino and Berwald are in there now."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course you can, but-"

Mathias didn't give Emil enough time to finish his sentence before he rushed through the hospital as fast as he could until he reached the private room his husband was in. He knocked on the door, not waiting for a reply before opening it. Berwald and Tino were sitting on chairs beside Lukas' bed, telling a story of some sort, but Mathias wasn't focusing on them, and neither was Lukas. Lukas blinked up at his husband but didn't say anything. They just stared, Mathias not moving from his place in the doorway.

"Aren't you going to greet me?" Mathias joked, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.

Tino looked sad as he stood. "He can't speak."

"What?"

"He's awake, but not… fully? He can breathe on his own, and his eyes are open, but he can't respond."

Mathias stepped further into the room, eyes locked with Lukas'. "You mean he… can't even say 'hello'?"

Tino shook his head. "The doctors say he should make a full recovery, he just needs time."

"How much time?"

"They don't know, could be weeks, could be days, or it could even be months."

"Oh." He moved so he was standing beside Lukas' bed so he could hold his husband's hand. "I'll look after him. I'll help him get better." Mathias felt a very light squeeze on his hand that causes a lump in his throat to form.

"We know you will, Mat."

Berwald patted his back lightly. "'m s'rry."

"Can I have some time alone with him?"

"Of course, we'll go wait with Emil."

As soon as the door shut behind Tino and Berwald, Mathias slumped back in his chair, tears leaking from his eyes, wetting his cheeks.

"You're gonna get better, ya hear me, Lukie? 'm gonna make sure you are well and out of here by Christmas."

Lukas very lightly squeezed his hand again, which Mathias took as Lukas telling him he could hear and understand everything Mathias was saying.

Mathias stayed with Lukas until visiting hours were up, just talking non-stop, with visits from Emil, Tino and Berwald every so often. He even continued talking when Lukas dropped in and out of consciousness.

"You should go home and sleep, Mat, you look exhausted, you've been here for days," Emil said as Mathias sat down on one of the plastic chairs in the reception area. "It's not gonna kill you to get some rest." Emil sat down beside him, sighing. "And maybe a shower," he added, almost playfully elbowing Mathias in the side.

"What if something happens?"

"The hard part is over, he woke up. Besides, if something does happen, I'll call you straight away."

"Don't you need sleep too?"

"I only got here today, you've been here for almost a week. Get some sleep, get some proper food, and take a long, warm shower. It'll do you some good."

"Fine, I'll go home, but you better call me if anything happens."

"I will, Mat. I promise."

"Where are Tino and Berwald, I'd like to say goodbye before I go."

"They had to leave, something about Peter and Oskar tormenting the babysitter."

Mathias chuckled. "They couldn't have adopted children less like them if they tried."

"Yeah," Emil agreed, letting out his own small chuckle. "Oh, Mathias?"

"Yeah?"

"Can Leon and I come and stay with you for a while starting next week? Our flat is having renovations done, and Lee is adamant he doesn't want to stay with his family."

"You don't have to ask, Em, you and Leon are welcome to stay anytime. I'll bring a spare key back here tomorrow."

"Thanks."

Mathias ruffled his hair. "No problamo!"

"Well it's getting late, you should go. I'll hold the fort here."

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Emil, I'll bring you something tasty in the morning, so don't eat anything here."

Emil nodded. "See you tomorrow." And with that, Mathias gave Emil a quick hug before leaving the hospital.

* * *

A week had passed since Lukas had woken up. Mathias stayed by his side any chance he could, talking away to what felt like thin air. He knew Lukas could hear him, knew his husband was listening by the way every so often his hand was squeezed.

Lukas was awake more too, which calmed Mathias' nerves somewhat. He was awake and aware of his surroundings.

"Mathias, can I talk to you for a moment?" Emil asked, popping his head around the door.

"Of course." He kissed Lukas' head, before following his brother-in-law into the hallway. "What's up, Em?"

"Have the doctors spoken to you about Lukas' recovery yet?"

Mathias shook his head, frowning. "Full recovery, right?"

"He can make a full recovery, yes, but he needs our help."

"They said just talking helps, they said he should find his voice again within a few weeks."

"Mat, there's a chance we'll need to teach him to do all the basic things like walk, talk, read, write, etcetera, and even then, there's a chance he will never be able to walk again, or even talk properly. Walk away now if you think at any point you won't be able to handle all that."

"Are you implying you think I would walk away from him? Even if Lukas can never use the toilet by himself and I must change a piss bag, I will stay beside him. I love him, and nothing is going to deter my love." Mathias crossed his arms, almost glaring at the young adult. "If I need to help him bathe, and be teaching him to talk for the rest of our lives, I will. Your brother is my everything, and it truly offends me that you think I'll walk away from him just because times are tough."

Emil laughed through his nose. "I don't for a second think you'll walk away. I've watched you pine after my brother since childhood, I'm not stupid. I just wanted to make sure. Lukas will be really hurt if you give up on him." He placed his hand on Mathias' arm. "And I will be too."

"I love both you and your brother, Emil, don't doubt that."

"I don't, Mathias."

"Then don't imply you do. I never thought you of all people would think I'd leave Lukas."

"Listen to me, Mat, I don't think you will. I just want you to know what you're getting into."

"I'm not 'getting into' anything, Emil. I was in the second we both said 'I do'."

Emil sighed, stepping closer to Mathias to touch his shoulder. "Okay, Mathias. I get it. Go back in, I'm sure Lukas is missing you already."

Mathias nodded, stepping away from Emil. "You're right. Thank you."

* * *

Mathias held up the card. "A," he said, squeezing Lukas' hand. "Repeat after me, A."

Lukas' mouth twitched, and just for a second Mathias was hopeful, but no words fell from his lips, his mouth barely even being able to make the shape of the letter.

Mathias had been at this for two weeks, he had been there every day, repeating words, and letters, just hoping his boyfriend would say something. Anything. He never did though. Mathias could tell Lukas was trying, but it was to no avail.

"Okay," Mathias started, swapping the card in his hand. "This card says 'Ant'."

Another twitch, another light hand squeeze, but the room stayed silent. Still, Mathias didn't let himself get downhearted, he just held a new card up, repeating the words over and over.

* * *

"I'll just be a minute, okay?" Mathias lent down to press a kiss to Lukas' forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When he stepped out of the room, he looked either way to make sure none of his family was around, before bursting into tears. He slid down the wall until he was sat on the floor, his head resting on his knees as he sobbed. It had been a month since Lukas had awoken from his coma, but he'd made no progress, he still couldn't speak, he was still weak.

Mathias was sure Lukas would have made at least a little progress by that point, he was one of the strongest people Mathias knew after all, but nothing. Nothing had happened.

He continued to sit on the floor sobbing, tears wetting his trousers, throat raw.

"Mat, Mat, calm down," he heard Emil in front of him. "You're making a scene, Mat."

Mathias lifted his head, eyes meeting Emil's. "I-I'm so scared," he wailed. Emil wiped his tears, leaning forward to embrace the sobbing man.

"Oh, Mathias, why didn't you say something? You've been so strong this past month."

"I wanted to be strong for him, Em, I wanted him to look at me and think I'm keeping it all together, but I'm not! I scared shitless. Every day I come here, hopeful that he'll speak to me, but every day I leave disappointed. Heck, even him just mouthing the words would be okay." He paused, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I just want to know that he knows I'm there."

"He knows, Mathias. Anytime you get here late, he just stares at the door until you walk through it. He shows outward comfort when you're here holding his hand, talking to him. He knows you're here, and he knows you're not going anywhere."

"He's right there, but I miss him so much."

"Me too," Emil replied, rubbing circles on Mathias' back. "Why don't you take a break, Mat? Go home, get a good rest, and come back tomorrow, shiny and new. I think Lukas will understand."

Mathias nodded. "I think you're right. You'll stay with him, right?"

"Of course, I'll stay with him right up 'til visiting hours are over, I promise."

"Thank you, Emmy."

"Don't call me that, I'm not a kid anymore."

"You're still a kid to me and Lukas."

* * *

Mathias wanted to scream, he wanted to put loud music on and dance through the night. He felt tears of pure happiness well up in his eyes and a bubble of proudness in his chest. Lukas had spoken. His lips had moved, and sound had emerged. Words, real words had been spoken.

"You did it!" Mathias squeezed his husband's hand. "You said it!"

Lukas almost smiled himself at how happy Mathias was.

"I'm so proud of you, Lukie, so, so proud!"

* * *

A month later and Lukas could talk almost perfectly again. His voice was a little croaky from lack of use, and he still stuttered, but for the most part, his speech was perfect. He was still working with the physiotherapist for his walking, but overall, Lukas was almost better. He would have some permanent problems, like his bladder didn't fully recover, so toileting would always be a problem, but Mathias didn't mind. He didn't care if he had to clean up after Lukas, as long as he was home, safe and happy, he didn't care.

* * *

"Will you still be here when Lukas gets home?" Mathias asked, leaning back in his office chair.

"If that's all right, Leon will be going home, but I'd like to stay for Lukas," Emil replied from his place in the doorway.

"No problem, I'll be bringing him home tomorrow. And you know, Leon is welcome to stay as well."

"He says he doesn't want to intrude."

"He's family too, you tell him that."

Emil smiled. "You must be excited for tomorrow."

"That's an understatement." Mathias grinned at his brother-in-law. "He'll finally be home, Em."

"I know, I'm happy."

"Me too."

* * *

When Mathias wheeled Lukas into their home, they were greeted by Emil, Tino, Berwald, Peter, Oskar and Leon, all popping party poppers onto Lukas' lap.

"Welcome home!" They all shouted, their grins wide.

"T-than-k y-ou," Lukas stuttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I said you and Leon could stay, not the whole family," Mathias joked, pushing Lukas further into the house.

"I thought they'd all like to welcome him home, and I thought Lukas would like it."

"I-I did," Lukas replied, holding his arms out. "H-hug?"

Usually, Emil would scoff and walk away, but just this once he let his brother hold him.

"I'm so happy you're okay," he finally said, pulling away from Lukas. "For a while we really didn't think you'd make it."

"'M okay. M, help?"

Mathias smiled, taking Lukas' hand in his own and helping him stand. "Where do you want to go?" He asked, holding his husband against him.

"So-fa."

He put Lukas down, before fluffing a pillow and slipping it behind his back.

For the rest of the day the family stayed, they had dinner, watching films and just enjoyed each other's company.

By the time it was time for everyone to leave, Lukas was fast asleep on Mathias' shoulder, so with a quiet goodbye, they all saw themselves out. Mathias slipped his hands under Lukas' legs, lifting him from the sofa and made his way to the converted office.

"F-for me?" Lukas asked, voice groggy.

"Thought going upstairs would be a pain for a while, so I brought our room down."

Lukas smiled sleepily. "Love you."

"Love you more," he replied, tucking his husband in then walking around and slipping into his own side. Lukas curled up beside him, holding Mathias as close as possible. "Never leave me again, Lukas."

"N-never."


	9. Day 9: Scar Worship (DenNor)

Warnings: Mentions of dark past. Scars.

Still trying to figure Norway out. He's kinda hard to write.

This also got very long-winded, it took a long time to get to the main part of the story my bad

* * *

Mathias was nervous. He knew after this date there was a chance Lukas would want to come inside for 'coffee'. It was their fourth proper date, and Lukas had asked him after every date for that 'coffee', but Mathias made up some sorry excuse and hurried off.

It wasn't like he didn't want to, god he wanted to. He wanted so desperately to take Lukas into his house, rip his clothes off and fuck him hard in the entryway. He did, really. It's just Mathias had an insecurity. And insecurity that made him not want Lukas to take his shirt off, one that made the thought of someone as perfect and unharmed as Lukas, seeing him naked. Scars. Scars from his past covered his torso, his legs, his back. Big, thick scars from knife wounds, and small ones from fist fights. He didn't want to taint the view Lukas had of him.

"Mathias?" Lukas spoke, waving his hand in front of Mathias' face. "You still there?"

"Have I gone invisible?" He joked, linking his fingers through the ones that had been in front of his face. "Can you feel me?"

"You're an idiot."

"Heh."

"You've been weird all night, Mat, what's going on?"

"Nothing!"

"Are you going off me?" Lukas asked, almost sounding nervous, but carefully covering that with a look of pure boredom.

"Ha! Me? Go off you? You must be kidding! I couldn't go off you if my dream man walked in front of my eyes." He went quiet for a moment. "Wait! You are my dream man."

"Disgusting." Lukas was smiling though, a faint blush on his usually pale cheeks. "I'm serious though, you've been weird all night. Has something happened? What aren't you telling me?"

Mathias unlinked his hand from Lukas'. "I just- I have a lot on my mind."

"Like?"

"Like… Like school!"

"School?"

"Yeah, my brother asked me to find a school for his son."

"Why would he ask you?"

"… I'm a good judge of place?"

"Enough of this bullshit, Mathias, I can't help if I don't know."

"You can't help anyway. He asked me."

Lukas narrowed his eyes. "Whatever. We're at my house." He unlocked his door before turning to Mathias. "You coming in?"

"I… Uh… I can't, I have to… take the bins out!"

"Your excuses are getting worse. Why are you so against coffee?"

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew, the first excuse was you needed to feed your cat."

"So?"

"You don't have a cat."

"Yet."

Lukas shook his head. "If you don't want to come in, all you have to do is say, you don't have to lie. I'm not going to force you, or ridicule you for not wanting to."

"I do want to!"

"Then why don't you?"

Mathias fell silent, scratching his neck. "I… I can't say."

"Got a small dick?"

"What?"

"Have you got a small dick? 'cause if ya do, I don't mind," Lukas teased, leaning back against the doorframe.

"No! I mean, it's nothing to do with my dick!"

"How about you do just come in for coffee? Quick mug then you can leave."

Mathias thought this over. He'd be lying if he said wanted the date to come to an end. Spending time with Lukas was always his favourite part of the week.

"Okay. Coffee."

"Good. Come in, shoes off at the door, kitchen is at the end of the hall.

It was the first time Mathias had actually been inside Lukas' place. It was bigger than he expected and very clean.

"You live alone?"

"Emil lives here, but he's out on Fridays."

"How come?"

"Just in case."

Mathias found himself blushing at the prospect. "Just in case what, eh?"

"In case you decide you want to fuck me after all."

"You'd like that."

"I would. Sit, I'll put the kettle on."

Mathias sat, looking around the large kitchen. "So, it's just you and Emil, eh?"

"Yes. I moved out when I was sixteen, Emil came later."

"You don't talk about your family a lot; do you not get along with them?"

"My mother, no, but my father and I get along nicely."

"Why did you move out so early? I moved out as late as I possibly could."

"I like my own space, and I don't like being told what to do, so moving out was the best option for both."

"Nice. I'd like to meet Emil."

"Bit early."

"Huh?"

"It's a bit early to talk about meeting family, is it not?"

"I don't think so. I really love spending time with you, and I think meeting your family, and you meeting mine, will be a good move in our relationship."

"We're in a relationship? I thought we were just hanging out."

"I presumed we were. I feel like you're my boyfriend."

"Oh, you do?"

"Ja."

Lukas set a mug of coffee in front of Mathias, then sat down opposite him at the table. "I suppose being your boyfriend wouldn't be terrible. We would have to make a deal though."

"What's that?"

"You tell me what's going on with you. I don't really care if you don't want sex, and you don't have to tell me why, so I don't want you worrying about it. You know, if that's what's making you so spacy."

"I do want sex, Lukas. I want to fuck you. Really."

Lukas cocked an eyebrow, an almost amused look on his face. "Yeah? How do you want to fuck me?"

"On the bed?"

"I have one of those."

"Stop it, Lukas. You just said you're fine with it."

"I am, but you're the one who said you wanted to fuck me."

"Can we just stop this conversation?"

Lukas nodded. "I'm sorry. I want to make it perfectly clear, you should never feel pressured with me, Mathias. I will never force you to do something you don't want to. Feel that's something I should make clear early on."

Mathias smiled. "I appreciate that."

Mathias and Lukas stayed up till the early hours of the morning, just talking and drinking coffee, and by the time Mathias stumbled out the door exhausted and high on caffeine, it was already light out. He kissed Lukas' cheek.

"Thank you for tonight, I really love spending time with you."

"You too."

"See you next week?"

"Actually, I'm free tomorrow, Emil cancelled our movie night to stay at a friend's house, so I was thinking dinner?"

"A Sunday date? I'm in! I need to cancel with my own brother, but I'll be here."

"I want to cook for you. Come at six."

"Six, got it." He pressed another kiss to Lukas' cheek before walking away, waving over his shoulder.

* * *

It was exactly six when Mathias knocked on Lukas' door, a bag of coffee beans in hand. The good kind, the one Lukas had pointed out every time they walked past the store that sold them, while basically salivating.

"You're on time."

"I'm always on time, me." Mathias held the coffee beans out at Lukas. "For you."

"Thank you, come in." Lukas stepped aside so Mathias could come in.

"Something smells delicious, Lukas."

"It's Lutefisk."

"Oh! My brother likes that, his father was from Sweden."

"You have different fathers?" Lukas asked, pulling out a bottle of wine.

"Yeah, mine was from Denmark. Ber's father died when he was little."

"Oh. Is yours still around?"

"Nah, died a few years back, fucking cancer."

"I'm sorry, Mat."

"Don't worry about it, not like you can change it."

Mathias sat down at the table, taking a sip of his wine. "You said you don't get along with your mum, how come?"

"She was abusive, let's leave it at that."

"Oh, sure. You don't want to talk about it, no worries. So, is Emil a good kid?"

"Yeah, he's off to university soon."

"Oh? That's great, what's he studying?"

"English literature. Loves books."

"Really? I'm not much of a reader myself, I get bored."

"You don't have a large attention span."

"No, not at all."

* * *

It was time for Mathias to leave, and once again, he didn't want to. They'd eaten dinner and watched two films, talking between them, and even so, he wanted to stay. He wanted to be near Lukas.

"It's been great," Mathias said as he stood in the doorway. "We still on for Friday?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad." Mathias pressed a light kiss to Lukas' lips. "Your lips are soft, has anyone ever told you that?"

"No."

He kissed him again. "Very soft." And again. And again. And once more. "Fuck it."

"Hm?"

Mathias pushed Lukas backwards, stepping back into the other man's house, closing the door behind him. "Take me to your bedroom."

"You don't h-" Mathias put a finger to Lukas' lips.

"If you want me, take me to your room, if you don't, I'll leave."

Lukas nodded, then began to walk away, Mathias close behind.

By the time they were in Lukas' room, all confidence was gone and he was back to the nervous wreck who didn't want perfect Lukas to see his scars.

"You look nervous," Lukas observed, sitting down on his bed. He pat beside him. "You can just sleep if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"I really want to."

"Kiss me."

Mathias complied, happily kissing the sweet lips of the man beside him.

* * *

They'd just been lazily making out for a while, having moved from their place at the end of the bed, to Lukas straddling Mathias sitting against the headboard. It was Lukas' hands toying with the hem of Mathias' shirt that brought him out of his stunned state.

"No!"

"What's wrong?"

"I- I don't want to take my shirt off."

Lukas nodded, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and pulling it off over his head. Mathias hands instantly found their way to his chest, dragging lightly over the pale skin.

"You're smooth."

"That's weird."

"If I take my shirt off, can you promise me something?"

"Yes."

"You won't laugh."

"Laugh? Why would I laugh?"

"I have… You'll see." With Lukas' help, Mathias' shirt came off with ease.

"Why would I laugh?" He repeated.

"The scars."

"What about them?"

"They're ugly. Big, ugly, imperfections from a shitty past."

Lukas moved down from Mathias lap. "Lie down."

"Huh?"

"Lie down."

Mathias did, insecurely covering his chest. Lukas gripped his arms softly, placing them down by his sides.

"Your hands stay there, okay?"

"Okay."

Lukas kissed his lips, then his neck, before pressing light kisses over Mathias' chest. "Your scars," Lukas started, kissing one of the thicker scars. "Are part of you." Another kiss to a different scar. "They are on you for a reason." He licked a line down the biggest scar on Mathias' stomach, making Mathias shiver. "And they're beautiful."

Mathias had never heard Lukas speak that way. He'd never been so complimenting. "But they're ugly."

Another kiss, another lick of his tongue. "They're sexy."

"Sexy?"

"Shows you have a past. A dark one. It's sexy."

"You're crazy."

"Crazy in love." Lukas froze at his own words and Mathias grinned.

"I'm crazy in love with you too, Lukas."

"Your scars are a part of you, Mathias, and I wish you weren't insecure about them." He kissed another one. "Will you ever tell me why you're so covered in scars?"

"On our wedding day."

Lukas chuckled, crawling back up to kiss Mathias' lips. "It's a deal."


	10. Day 10: Being Mean to Eachother (FrUK)

It had been a long day and the last thing England needed was the Frenchman joining him for a drink. That didn't stop Francis sitting down, ordering a drink and beginning conversation with the stressed Brit.

"England, mon ami, however are you?"

"Go away, frog."

"You wound me, I just want to talk."

"You never want to 'just talk'. You want to taunt and wind me up, I'm not stupid."

"It's not my fault it's easy to do just that."

"Just fuck off."

Francis didn't budge. "You know, it'd do you some good to be a little nicer. It must be lonely being you."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Really? You do always look heartbreakingly alone. Having no friends can't be a lot of fun."

"I have friends."

"Oh yeah? Where are they?"

"Busy."

"With each other. The so-called friends are all together as we speak. Japan. America. Spain. Romano. Prussia. They're all together, having fun in America's suite without you. Doesn't that hurt?"

It did. England had asked Japan and America if they wanted to go out for drinks after the meeting, and both had declined him. "Not really," he snapped, putting his glass down on the bar just a little too hard. "If they're having so much fun, why aren't you up there?"

"Something was missing."

England felt his face flush.

"Excuse me, can I have a bottle of red and a bottle of white, please?"

"Coming up."

"I don't drink wine," England said as Francis was passed the bottles.

"Good thing it's not for you," he taunted, standing from his seat. "Got the missing things, au revoir, mon ami!" Francis waved a hand over his shoulder as he walked away, hips swaying.

England practically growled, throwing his drink back. "Another," he said, slamming his glass down.

"I think you've had enough," the bartend replied hesitantly.

"I'll decide when I've had enough, thank you very much."

It was three in the morning when he finally passed out on the bar, after hours of ranting about the shitfaces he knew.

* * *

Later that morning, England awoke fully expecting his back to hurt from falling asleep slumped over the bar, but to his surprise, he was tucked into a bed, covers pulled up to his chin. He sat up, rubbed at his eyes, then promptly screamed. Francis was sat at the desk opposite the bed.

"Morning, Arthur," he greeted, turning to face him.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room."

"This happens to be my room."

"Okay, what the fuck am I doing in your room?"

"The hotel bar called my room, said you'd passed out at the bar and wanted me to collect you. I couldn't find your key, so I just brought you here."

"You took advantage of me, didn't you?"

"I'm hurt that would even cross your mind. Of course I didn't. In fact, I slept on the sofa, not beside you. I'm a good man, Arthur."

"Could've fooled me." It was then Arthur caught sight of the two bottles Francis had purchased the night before, still full. "What the fuck are they?"

"Oh! I completely forgot." He snatched one up. "Bought them for my collection."

"So you didn't buy them for your shitty friends?"

"I wasn't with friends last night." Francis smirked.

"But you said!"

"Uh, uh, uh, I didn't say anything. You just assumed I was buying the wine for them. I was up here all by my lonesome last night. Just like you at the bar." His smirk grew. "Though, I must say you whining about being alone at the bar is significantly more tragic than me doing my paperwork."

"Fuck you, Francis," Arthur snapped, standing up from the bed. "We both know you bought them just to be a twat."

"You're right. I was taunting you."

"You're such an arse."

"Oui."


	11. Day 11: Sleeping In (SpaBel)

Emma is my new name for Belgium, just so you know!

I want to point out I've never written straight porn, and words for vagina gross me out (don't ask, I don't know, they just gross. Like, labia, really? Fucking labia, it's just really gross to me) but I tried bc I love SpaBel and I'm bored of just writing gay porn tbh

* * *

Emma looked down at her husband, a tired smile on her lips. Antonio was fast asleep beside her, face buried in the pillows, and hair even more ruffled than usual. It was a nice sight for Emma, Antonio was usually up and out before her, so she rarely saw him in the mornings, even on weekends he was usually up at the crack of dawn, leaving Emma asleep while he tidied the house and ran errands.

She watched him for a while, eyelids flickering in his dream, and small breathy noises coming from his mouth. Emma had decided a long time ago that she was extremely lucky to have ended up with someone as handsome and lovely as Antonio, and while lying there, staring at her husbands sleeping face, she was reminded all over again.

Emma stayed there for a while longer, before deciding to get up and do the housework, a little surprise for when Antonio wakes up. It's not often she gets a chance to do it with Antonio around, he always insisted on the housework, but truth be told, Emma liked cleaning. She'd been doing it herself since she was a little girl, considering her parents were never home and her brother was always out.

"It's already pretty tidy in here," she says to herself, looking around the living room. "Toni must have cleaned up before he came to bed last, he's going to wear himself thin one of these days."

An hour passed, and Emma had finished the downstairs and was about to move onto the upstairs when a knock on the door startled her. She put down the cloth she was holding, smoothed down her shirt, then made her way to the door.

"Hello, Emma, dear," the man greeted, a smile on his face.

"Oh, hello, Romulus, how are you?"

"I'm very good, yourself?"

"Brilliant. What brings you to our home?"

"I wanted to make sure Antonio was still up for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Sì, he said he'd take Lovino in for the night. He's under house arrest, but I've been called out on duty, so I can't make sure he stays in. Feliciano can't stop him leaving, you see."

"Oh, of course, Lovino is welcome anytime."

"Gracias, Emma. I'll bring him round at seven."

"No worries, we'll be waiting."

"I'm sorry I have to rush off now, make sure he hasn't snuck out in the five minutes I've been here."

"Sure thing. Have a nice day, Romulus!"

"And you, Emma."

With that Romulus left, walking the few steps back down to his own flat. Emma closed the front door, then made her way back upstairs. Back in their bedroom, Antonio was still fast asleep, which did worry Emma. Antonio was an early riser, had been for as long as she'd known him. She touched her hand to his forehead, feeling for a temperature. Antonio stirred in his sleep as she climbed back into the bed beside him.

"You awake, Toni?" She whispered.

Antonio hummed, snuggling closer to her. "You smell nice," he mumbled, pressing his face into her chest.

Emma giggled, stroking his hair. "You're exhausted, aren't you?"

Antonio nodded. "I could do with a few hours more sleep."

"Then sleep, love, don't wake up on my account."

He pressed his face closer into her chest. "Your boobs are great, have I ever told you that?"

"I think we may have had that conversation before, yes."

"They're so squishy." He punctuated that statement with a light squeeze on Emma's left breast. "I just want to touch them all the time."

"They're fair game," she replied, kissing his head. "Touch them all you want."

Antonio's hand slid under her shirt, cupping her breast lightly. "And your skin is so smooth."

"Nice dream?" She teased, brushing her knee against Antonio's crotch.

"The best," he replied, continuing to lazily palm her tit.

"Yeah? Tell me what happened."

"You were there. You were baking a cake, in nothing but an apron. You're breathtaking, covered in flour and cake mix."

"Are you implying I make a mess when I cook?"

"You had made a terrible mess by the time I was finished with you." He pressed a kiss to her chest. "And the cake was burnt."

Emma giggled, shimmying down so she was face to face with her husband. "I don't burn cakes."

"You do when you're preoccupied."

"I've never been preoccupied enough to burn a cake."

"My dick was inside you." Antonio lent closer. "Deep, deep inside you."

Antonio's hand had moved from her boob and was trailing down her stomach, fingers tickling her soft skin until they were just above her trousers.

"Yes, I think that might be a little preoccupying," Emma agreed, pushing forward, edging him along. "But why would I have sex while I was baking?"

"You were begging for it, darling," he drawled, slipping his hand under the waistband of both her trousers and panties. "I love it when you beg."

"I don't beg, Toni, if anyone begs, it's you," she teased, letting her own hands move to Antonio's backside to give it a playful squeeze.

"You're so sexy, Emma," Antonio said, letting his fingers rub over her clit. Emma moaned, biting her lip. "I love your moans."

"I thought you were tired," she giggled, her hand rubbing over his crotch.

"I'm never too tired to want to have sex with my beautiful wife." Antonio slipped a finger, then two inside her vagina, his thumb still rubbing circles over her clit, and Emma positively groaned, her hand slipping under Antonio's boxers to wrap around his stiff cock. "A-ah, just like that," he moaned, pumping his fingers in and out of his wife's wet hole.

Emma leaned close to her husband, kissing his lips before pulling away, whispering a low and breathy, "fuck me."

Antonio withdrew his hand and quickly flipped over so he was hovering over Emma. "Say that again."

"Fuck me," she repeated, fingering herself underneath Antonio.

Antonio quick as a flash pulled his boxers down, leaving them around his knees as he pushed inside his wife, shivering at the feel of her wet folds engulfing his cock. They had sex regularly, but Antonio would never get used to the feel over her wrapped around him, contracting with every thrust, her fingernails grabbing at any part of him they could.

"T-to- fuck – touch me, Toni," she whined, fingers digging into his back.

Fingers quickly pressed to her swollen nub, and began massaging, moving between slow and soft, then hard and rough, the way she liked it. Emma moaned loudly, the feeling of both her clit being played with and her cunt full, it was heavenly.

Thrust after thrust had her shaking, orgasm closing in fast. If there was just one thing she adored about her husband, it was his ability to bring her to orgasm in record time.

"Are you ready to cum, mi amor?" Antonio's voice was husky in her ear, and all Emma could do was nod, her entire body shivering with arousal. Just a few more hard thrusts, had Emma screaming, her orgasm hitting her hard and fast. Antonio continued to thrust into her as he himself orgasmed, her cunt milking him for everything he was worth.

"That's always so good," Emma breathed as Antonio slid out, and lay back down beside her.

"You're always so good. Everything about you is beautiful." He kissed her deep, tongue exploring her mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Antonio yawned, stretching out his entire body like a cat. "I need a shower."

"No, no, you go back to sleep for a while, Toni, you've had a week of late nights, you deserve some more rest. I'll wake you at ten."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Go to sleep."

"Oh, by the way, I said we'd watch Lovino tonight."

"I know, I spoke to Romulus earlier."

"You did?"

"Yeah, he came around to make sure you were still okay with it."

"You know, for such a cute kid, he sure is a handful."

Emma chuckled. "Yeah. Anyway, you get some more sleep, okay?"

"I think I'll take you up on that."

"Good. Sleep well, schat."

Emma kissed his head, collected her discarded underwear and trousers, before leaving the room.

* * *

Emma was baking when Antonio came in. He wrapped his arms around her waist, causing the woman to jump.

"Toni! I said I'd get you up."

"You were wearing a lot less in my dream."

Emma blushed, twisting her head to kiss him. "I can always take off my clothes. Though, it's rather dangerous to bake with no clothes on."

"I'd rather you didn't burn yourself, cariño."

"I'm grateful." She kissed him again, before going back to mixing. "Did you enjoy your lie-in?"

"I did. Thank you. You also cleaned up, you didn't need to do that."

"I know, I wanted to. Believe it or not, Toni, I actually quite like cleaning."

"How strange, me too. Man, we have a lot in common."

She giggled, pouring the mixture into a cake tin, before wiggling out of Antonio's arms. She took one look at Antonio before she put the cake in. "We have twenty minutes." Was all she said before dropping her trousers and panties and bending over for Antonio. "How about we make your dream come true?"

"You're my dream come true," Antonio gulped, pulling his boxers down. "God I love you."

"I love you, Toni."


	12. Day 12: Watching the other Sleep (SpUK)

Antonio loved his sleep, but what he loved more was staring at his boyfriend, and as he wasn't allowed to do that too much when he was awake, Antonio would settle for waking up earlier than usual on the days Arthur stayed over, just to watch his sleeping face.

He thought the way Arthur's eyes fluttered in his sleep, and the shadow his long eyelashes made in the morning sun that blared through the curtains, were beautiful. Granted, he thought everything about Arthur was beautiful, from his messy, unkempt hair, all the way to his toes.

Antonio watched the way Arthur's eyebrows furrowed and softened, and he lay trying to figure out if his dream was bad or good. It was a game he played every morning like this, he never knew the answer as Arthur wasn't one to remember his dreams (or he just didn't want to tell Antonio), but he found it a fun pastime anyway. He'd make up what he thought Arthur's dream was, just based on his small movements, or quiet noises that fell from his parted lips.

Arthur was a heavy sleeper, Antonio guessed it was due to his job, but he didn't know for sure. Antonio didn't mind him being a heavy sleeper, it meant more time for Antonio to trace his fingers along the sleeping man's jaw, chuckling softly at the clenching it caused. He sometimes wondered if Arthur was actually awake, and was just too embarrassed to let Antonio know.

Antonio shifted slightly, just so he could press a light kiss to the side of Arthur's mouth, then he watched his mouth twitch, and he could have sworn he felt a feather-light kiss back from him, but he just assumed he imagined it.

He continued to watch Arthur as the morning went on, the sun getting brighter through the curtains, and his stomach getting hungrier by the minute. It was only when Arthur began to shift, whining low in his throat, that Antonio knew his boyfriend was finally waking up. He stared at Arthur's face until his eyes flickered open, and his mouth groaned at the daylight pouring into his sensitive eyes.

"Mornin'," he said, voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," Antonio replied, grinning.

"Why are you so happy?"

"No reason. Breakfast?"

"Sounds lovely." Arthur moved to sit up, but Antonio pushed him back down.

"I'll bring it up, you stay here."

"Sounds lovely," he repeated, allowing himself to be held down. "I'll wait here."

"Yes." Antonio kissed him, before standing up and leaving. He knew Arthur had woken in a good mood, and he'd be damned if he was going to let it go to waste.

* * *

Arthur woke up exceptionally early, he wasn't sure why, or what the time even was, but if his sleeping husband was anything to go by, it was early. For the first time in their marriage, heck, their relationship, Arthur had woken up first. He hadn't been asleep that long, but for a change, he didn't care. He got to take in the man beside him, more than he could when Antonio was awake.

It wasn't like Antonio had a problem with him staring at him, Arthur knew that it was Arthur that had the problem. He found it embarrassing to be caught staring, even by his husband.

Arthur knew Antonio was the definition of attractive, sometimes it would surprise him that Antonio, looking like a God, would even want someone as plain as him, but Antonio did, and Arthur knew it. In fact, Antonio would never let him forget it.

Arthur traced his finger over Antonio's face, his skin smooth, a complete difference from Antonio's hands, that were calloused and bumpy and felt so good on his skin. He loved his Antonio, and his Antonio loved him.


	13. Day 13: Lazy Day (HongIce)

Hong Kong likes lazy days. Days that he can just lounge about doing nothing, or playing video games, or even binging his new anime obsession. Lazy days with Iceland, however, are his favourite. Being able to do all those things but with his boyfriend? Even better.

Iceland woke up groggy that morning, walking into the living room rubbing his eyes. Hong Kong was already up and lounging on the couch, blanket Iceland had covered him with the night before folded over the back of the sofa, legs propped up on the coffee table and morning tea in hand.

"Would you like one?" He asked, gesturing to the mug.

Iceland shook his head, sitting down on the sofa. "I'll just have some of yours," he replied, taking the mug from Hong's hand, and sipping at it. "You make the best tea."

"Had a lot of practice." He took the mug back to finish the beverage, before putting it down on the table. "You're up late."

"I didn't get here till late."

"That's true." Hong Kong shifted to sit on his leg, so he could face Iceland better. "How was your journey?"

"Long. Thanks for waiting up."

"I tried."

"I know."

"Thanks for covering me up, would have woken up feeling crappy this morning if you hadn't."

"I considered waking you but thought that would be too mean, so I settled on putting a blanket on you and crashing. Your spare room is as comfortable as ever."

"You know you're welcome in the main room."

"I know," was all Iceland said, standing up and collecting the mug. "Want another?"

"No, thank you, but go ahead and make yourself one."

"Nah, was just offering as I'm going to raid your fridge."

"Go ahead, there's practically nothing in it though, haven't been shopping in a while."

"That's 'cause you're lazy, Hong."

"You may be right, Ice."

Iceland left for a few minutes before coming back with a small selection of fruit he'd ransacked from Hong Kong's otherwise empty fridge. "We should go shopping today."

Hong Kong groaned, snuggling further into the sofa. "No," he whined, dragging the word out. "I don't want to."

"There's nothing to eat!"

"We'll just order in for lunch and dinner."

"How are you not the size of a house?"

"I'm very athletic."

Iceland scoffed. "Yeah, okay." He settled back down beside his boyfriend. "What are we doing today?"

"I just got that new Mario game, wanna double team with me?"

"I'd be honoured."

* * *

Emil slammed the controller down on the sofa. "I'm not doing this anymore." They'd been at it for hours and were on what seemed to be their hundredth try at one of the last bosses. "It sucks and I'm bored."

"Come on, Emil, one more try?"

"No! I'm done." Iceland crossed his arms, refusing to look at the screen. "Do it yourself."

"But this is our lazy day."

"I don't care, I don't want to do this anymore."

"Fine, fine, I'll complete it with S.K next time he comes over." Hong Kong saves and quits the game, setting the controller down significantly softer than Iceland had. "What do you want to do now then?"

"I want to eat, we skipped lunch and now it's dinner time and I'm hungry."

"Okay, I'll order something. What would you like?"

"Surprise me."

* * *

When Iceland said 'surprise' me, he didn't exactly mean by buying every item of food on the menu, but Hong Kong did just that, and even though he thought they couldn't manage it, they ate almost all of it, only a few leftovers being put into the fridge for the next morning.

Hong Kong leant back, hand rubbing circles on his over-full stomach. "Oh, boy, that was good."

"Yeah," Iceland replied, copying him. "We definitely ate too much. We just ate like three family's worth of food."

"Worth it though."

Iceland chuckled. "Yeah, you're right."

"Shall we watch another film?"

"Sure. I bought a film from home that I want you to watch."

"Oh really? You don't often bring films from home."

"I watched it recently and thought of you."

"How lovely. Pop it in, I'll get us some tea to settle our stomachs."

"Sure."

* * *

With the film on and tea in hands, the two teens settled down on the sofa, cuddling with each other. Another lazy day was almost over, and Hong Kong was happy as could be.


	14. Day 14: Drawing Each Other (FrUK)

Warning: NSFW

* * *

"Sit still, will you? I thought you would be good at this," Francis complained. "You spend most of your time sitting still, why can't you do it when I need you to?"

"I need the toilet," Arthur snapped, bouncing in his seat. "Let me piss and I'll sit as still as a board for you."

Francis groaned, putting his pencil down. "Fine, go, but be quick, I need to get this done."

"Not being funny, Francis, but shouldn't you have done this stupid project before now?"

"Oh, shut up, like you're any better. Go piss."

Arthur put his middle finger up as he rushed out. He took as long in the toilet as possible, just to purposely annoy the Frenchman, who had called him numerous time, each time getting more and more pissed off at him.

"You're the biggest shit, Arthur," Francis snapped when Arthur finally emerged from the bathroom. "Now sit still and let me finish the portrait."

Arthur sat, hands in his lap. "Happy?"

"I will be when I get this done, it's due tomorrow."

"Not my problem," Arthur teased.

"Well perhaps if I had something better to work with I would have started sooner," he retorted, glaring at Arthur. "You're not exactly the prettiest thing to draw."

"Fuck off."

"Can't, gotta get this done."

Arthur shut up after that, opting to just lean on his hands whilst Francis worked frantically in front of him. By the third hour, he was bored. He'd tried just about everything he could do while sitting on the stool, but nothing had cured him of his absolute boredom.

"I'm fucking bored, frog."

"I'm almost done," he said, flicking his paintbrush over the canvas. "Just find something to do."

Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Something to do? What could he possibly do that didn't mean moving a lot? He thought about it for a second, before a small grin crossed his face. He wanted Francis to hurry up? What could he possibly do that would make the French twat finish his painting and leave?

With a small, almost embarrassed chuckle, Arthur brought his hands to the front of his trousers, rubbing slow circles, before he began pulling down the zip. Francis froze for a second at the tell-tale sound of a zipper but quickly returned to his work, refusing to look up. By this time, Arthur had full unzipped, and shimmied his trousers down to his ankles, leaving him in just his boxers, shirt and a loose tie.

"Are you almost finished?" He asked, sounding bored as he continued to rub circles over his half-erect cock.

Francis didn't answer, still refusing to look up while he continued to paint. Arthur frowned. _Fine_ , he thought, _next step_. Arthur slipped his boxers down to join his trousers, wrapped his hand around his cock and began to slowly stroke it, lip between his teeth.

Francis drew in a breath as his eyes finally met those of the Englishman in front of him. Still, he continued to paint, only occasionally glancing up at Arthur.

Every now and then Arthur would let out a breathy moan, making it harder and harder for Francis to ignore the lust that had built. He would have been able to hold out if it hadn't been for the moan of ' _Francis_ ', followed by a grunt.

Francis groaned, standing from his stall. Arthur ignored him, all while continuing to stare at him as he stroked his hard cock.

"You're a very difficult person, mon ami," he growled, taking a step closer to him. "You drive me insane."

Arthur chuckled, biting his lip harder. "O-oh yeah?" He replied, spreading his legs further apart. "H-how -ugh- so?"

Francis lunged at him, knocking him backwards off the stool, landing with a thump on the ground, Francis on top of him.

"Ow, fuck!" He shouted. "The fuck, frog? Could have fu-" Francis cut him off with a rough kiss, meshing their mouths together so hard it was almost painful for them both.

"Exposing yourself to me? Isn't that sexual harassment?" Francis growled, grinding against Arthur's cock.

"You didn't have to look," he retorted, hands squeezing at Francis' arse. "That was your decision. Besides, what's this right now? You're the one who jumped me."

"You wanted me to. You made that very clear when you moaned _my_ name."

"Who said I was moaning your name? How do you know I don't know more than one Francis?"

Francis laughed, snaking his hand between them to stroke at Arthur's cock. "You couldn't get better than me."

"That's probably the most insulting thing you've ever said to me, frogface."

"Go cry about it to Francis."

Arthur punched Francis' arm. "F-uh- fuck off."

"Okay." Francis rolled off and moved to stand, but Arthur shoved him back down, straddling his waist.

"You can fuck off once I've cum." He began stroking himself again, all while grinding down on Francis' cock, trapped hard in his trousers.

"Cum in my hair and I promise I'll kill you, mon ami."

"Your mouth then."

Francis didn't say a thing, just opened his mouth.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Go ahead. Just for being so patient today."

Arthur cocked his head to the side. "I'll fuck your face then," he said, standing up, still slowly stroking himself.

Francis nodded his head, moving so he was on his knees. Arthur stepped forwards, grabbing Francis' jaw with his free hand. "I'm looking forward to this," was all he said before prying Francis' mouth open with his thumb and shoving his cock straight down Francis' throat. Francis placed his hands-on England's thighs, while England laced his fingers through Francis' hair, slowly fucking at his face.

Arthur's thrust switched between slow and fast-paced, taking Francis on a face-fucking whirlwind. He didn't know what Arthur was going to do next, and for the first time, he just allowed it. He let Arthur use his mouth as a fuck-hole. As nothing more than a means to get off. And Francis would be lying if he said his cock wasn't harder than it had ever been.

"Don't touch yourself," Arthur growled, holding Francis' against the base of his cock, almost choking him. "You're not allowed to cum until I do."

Francis groaned, swallowing around the thick intrusion, which in turn make Arthur groan, bending over slightly.

It didn't take long for Arthur's thrusts to become erratic, and his balls to tighten. A few more flicks of Francis' tongue had Arthur cumming so hard he swore he saw stars. Francis swallowed every last burst of hot, thick cum.

"Mmmm," he groaned, licking his lips after Arthur pulled out. Arthur knelt down in front of him, grabbed Francis' shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. He could taste himself on Francis' tongue, and while that should disgust him, it just edged him on.

"I want you to cum in your pants," Arthur ordered, hand pressed flat over Francis' hard cock. "Understand?"

"O-oui," Francis stuttered, moaning at the mixed feelings of Arthur's tongue travelling his mouth and Arthur's hand pressed against him.

After just a few strokes over his trousers and Arthurs tongue over the roof of his mouth, Francis came with a cry, panting as Arthur continued to stroke him into oversensitivity.

" _Merde_ ," he panted, gripping Arthur. "Merde."

Arthur kissed him one last time before pulling away. "Thanks."

"Can I see it?" Arthur asked as they cleaned up.

"See what, mon ami?"

"The painting."

Francis chuckled. "You can, but you have to wait until I'm out of the room."

"Why?"

"You just do."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

"I have a meeting with my professor, au revoir, mon petit lapin." Francis gave a little wave as he picked up his bag and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, Arthur walked over to the painting.

He took a deep breath, fists clenched at his sides. "I'm going to kill that good-for-nothing piece of French shit!" He screamed, fighting the urge to punch the 'portrait' in front of him. With a wild cry, he snatched up his own bag and ran out, leaving the beautiful painting of a vase behind.


End file.
